


Bonds, or an alarming lack thereof

by onceuponachildhood



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Tragic backstory bull
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 22:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12021975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceuponachildhood/pseuds/onceuponachildhood
Summary: Davenport wants the best for his crew. Happiness, togetherness, a sense of purpose. Now if only Taako wanted that too. [a scene from one of the early cycles of the stolen century]





	Bonds, or an alarming lack thereof

Taako isn’t bonding with the other members of the crew.

It takes Davenport a little while to notice it, because both of the Taaco twins are a little distant. But Lup reaches out to people first. She arm-wrestles with Magnus and teaches Merle how to make spaghetti. She disappears with a bottle of nail polish and and reappears with a fresh manicure and a smiling Lucretia. She sits with Barry and discusses theory for hours on end. She drops into the co-pilot’s chair and cracks jokes until she can make Davenport himself laugh.

Taako goes along willingly enough if someone else wants to do something, but he never initiates. He never reaches out. It’s almost like he just tolerates the people around him. It’s not a huge issue, per se, but as a captain Davenport wants his crew to get along. They’re no closer to stopping the hunger and Davenport is afraid there are many, many hard years ahead of them.

His plan is more half-cocked than he likes, but he’s never been particularly good with interpersonal relationships. He’s a good leader, a fantastic pilot, and he knows it. He also knows that unless he’s at a podium or a helm, he’s often at a loss.

That half-cocked plan of his involves a pot of tea, two cups, and finding Taako alone. He gets a few weird glances from the rest of the crew as he searches the ship. It’s not often that he’s out and mingling, after all. The mission comes first. But finding Taako alone is easy because he’s often alone. On the observation deck, Taako sits a little table with a book that he doesn’t truly appear to be reading. Davenport takes that as invitation enough to sit down at the other chair and place his teapot on the table.

Taako doesn’t even look up from his book. “‘Sup, my dude?”

“Well,” Davenport pours them each a cup of tea. It’s ginger, his own favorite brew, and the aroma is immediately noticeable. “I thought we might have a quick chat?”

There is a moment of quiet as Taako lifts the cup to his face and breathes in. He sits the cup back down. After another moment of silence, he waves his hand in a go-on motion. “About?”

Okay. No turning back. Davenport says, “I’ve been trying to keep an eye on the crew, and I’ve noticed that you don’t really seem to be bonding with anyone else on the ship.”

“What are you, my mother? We’re on a mission. Stop the hunger? Get back home? Any of that ringing a bell?”

“I very well know we’re on a mission-” Davenport starts, then stops. “That’s my point,” he finally says. “We’re on a mission, with a lot of hard time ahead of us and…” he hates to admit it out loud, but maybe he can reach Taako with a little raw honesty, “we don’t really have a clear end in sight. It’s gonna be hard, for all of us. Forming relationships with everyone else on the crew might make that burden a little easier to bear.”

“... _right_.”

There’s a moment where he’s not sure what to say. Everything he says feels like the wrong thing. Taako is harder to get through to than a brick wall. “I mean, if you, specifically, if you Taako would reach out and spend time with other members of the crew, that might be good.”

“Mmm, yeah, but Taako’s already good.” Taako runs a single finger along the rim of his teacup. “I could almost appreciate your mothering, if it wasn’t so annoying, but I’m pretty fucking awesome as is. I can deal.”

This isn’t going at all how Davenport hoped. “You might think you’ve got this now, but things change. There’s no need to be alone. You don’t have to be distant like this.”

Taako makes a sound that might be a huff, but is probably just a dismissive laugh.

Davenport sighs, and tries a different approach. “Look, I know that you and Lup had a difficult childhood, but that’s no excuse for-”

“ _Difficult_?” Taako turns on him. Davenport winces; maybe the childhood thing was a low blow. “You think you know, huh? You think you know so much about Taako. Your good buddy Taako; you know so much about the elf, the myth, the legend.”

They’ve never actually had a conversation about Taako’s childhood. Lup mentioned their Aunt, in passing, but Davenport hasn’t directly been told anything. Davenport’s a stellar pilot, but conversations are a whole different thing from starships. He’s not so good at steering the former. ”I’ve read your file…”

It is most definitely the wrong thing to say. Taako’s fingers curl around his wand and Davenport tries not to reach for his own. He’s already escalated the situation enough. “You don’t know shit, my dude.” And Taako begins casting at the table in front of them.

It’s an illusion spell, which surprises Davenport because- and he hates to admit it- it’s not in Taako’s file that he knows this particular school. A particularly good illusion spell, too. Good in the craftsmanship and the detail. Its contents, Davenport observes as the scene plays out before him, are rather less good.

There’s a handful of elves arguing with each other. There’s no sound to the illusion, but with the furious body language and vehement gestures of the elves, it’s clear there’s an argument of a loud variety going on. Two smaller, younger elves stand in the corner. Their faces are drawn and pinched. One of them might have tears in their eyes. They are very, very still in their dark little corner. Their hands are clasped tightly together.

The scene changes, somewhat. There are less adult elves in a different-looking room. One elf has a black eye, and the other is pacing back and forth in front of the couch. The two younger elves still stand in their corner, grim-faced and holding hands.

The scene changes again. There is only one elf, furiously shaking a finger in the faces of the young elves, still in their dark corner. One of the younger elves has a cut across the face. Davenport recognizes with a start that the wound matches a scar on Lup’s own forehead. The young elves in the illusion stand solemnly as they are scolded, hands firmly intertwined.

When the scene changes this time, Davenport is so enraptured by the illusion before him that he almost misses the brief flit of a smile on the real Taako’s face. The twins in the illusion are smiling, this time. They are in the center of a bright, cheery kitchen. A very old-looking elf moves around behind them, and despite her apparent age her steps are graceful. The twins aren’t folding hands, but each of them has a hand on some form of dough on the table before them. All three elves in this bright, homey kitchen look indescribably happy.

The scene changes again.

The twins are back in their dark corner, hands held tight even as one leans into the other to cry. They’re both wearing all black. There is a casket some distance from them. The old elf from before lays in it, her expression serene. A familiar handful of elves are arguing violently, hardly even glancing at the young elves in the corner.

The illusion vanishes faster than it appeared. Taako glares at Davenport, even as he puts his wand away and rises from his seat, nearly upending his still-full teacup as he jostles the table. “There’s a fucking addendum to that file for you, _Captain_.”

“Taako, I…” Anything he might have said dies in the wake of Taako’s gaze. He shuts his mouth, sufficiently chastised.  Taako strides from the room like he didn’t just bear his soul to someone who, Davenport realizes, is more or less a stranger.

Maybe he should start by leading by example.


End file.
